


You had me with the sword

by Nerdvana



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Kid John, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdvana/pseuds/Nerdvana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every human has a soulmate, John. Sometimes, we find them right away, sometimes we take years. Others, less lucky than us, never actually find them. Today, my lucky boy, you found yours." </p><p>Where John meets his four year old soulmate, who at the moment happens to prefer pirates to a violin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You had me with the sword

**Author's Note:**

> John is 7 years old in this fic.

John learned at a very early age some of the most complicated concepts the adult world had to offer him. Being his father fortunate enough to work on the most expensive, exclusive carpentry shop allowed him not only to have a very decent income, but also to help master Bob whenever he inmersed himself on a new and complicated project.

Bobby explained to him all the diverse meanings of the intrincated design of a wooden chair; he would fill John's eager little brain with all the knowledge of mythology and symbology that embroidered the elaborated support of the tables; John learned through carpentry some of the greatest stories in the world.

And he got to see interesting people, which was a bonus.

One ordinary day, a young man and his little brother entered the store. The young man was tall, slightly chubby and exuded power and authority; the little one looked just plain bored, constantly looking around the store as if trying to justify the waste of his time by encountering something 'extraordinary'.

John had seen the other boy. He looked around the age of four, although was clearly tall for his age, and John had sometimes seen it with a woman in a light blue uniform (his nanny, he supposed) always bored beyong belief.

Except those couple of times when his eyes connected with John, except for that time when the blonde stopped some older prat from calling the other boy nasty names. Ever since, whenever they crossed ways in the park, the boy would look curious and wary, and John would internally freak out.

But not now, as Bobby got there to take their order. The boy's brother (Mycrot, as he pompously introduced himself) informed that they were looking for a violin. As he went on, it had to be a fine instrument. It had to be distinguished by it's precission, beauty, quality, class, and a lot other qualifications that John didn't even bother to understand.

What did captivate his attention, however, was the little brother (Sherlock, apparently, and just what kind of parents punished their children with such names?), who- oblivious to the negotiations that would eventually lead to his new violin- had looked at John straight in the eyes and now stared longingly at a small pirate sword that rested againt a wall.

It was a small peace of art: a wooden blade crafted just the right way to give the ilusion of shaprness and painted with a very discreet silver tone; the grip was decorated with beautiful details of sirens and the sea, painted with blues and greens to simulate the ocean.

John could understand Sherlock's fascination with the sword, he himself had been raptured for hours when Bobby finished it, but the older brother remained oblivious to the longing that filled his brother's eyes.

 

Sherlock's gaze found his, and John felt everything kind of stopped in it's place. The blonde boy gave him a nod of reassurance before removing the sword from it's spot agains the wall and placing it in Sherlock's hands.

The little boy gaped at him, suprised and- perhaps- a little moved by the other's thoughtfulness; his little fingers traced the elaborated design of the grip and roamed the blade with adoration, a small smile tingling on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes were fixed on John's once more as he handed him the sword adoringly, without letting it go entirely. As they both gripped the silver blade, "something" took place; John didn't had the slightest idea of what could be, but Bobby sure as hell didnt miss it.

He ogled the par suspiciously before closing the deal with Mycroft and handling him Sherlock's bran new violin, asking John to fetch him a nice case for it.

As the brothers exited the store, Sherlock turned once to look at his new...friend? (accomplice?), and John could notice that he carried a smaller, square case.

Hours later- as John closed the final door- he asked Bobby why would he give that boy such an expensive and unique sword, without even charging him with half of the price for his hard work; that was the moment when John H. Watson learned one of those complex concepts:

-John, do you know why i am the best carpenteer?- asked Bobby, lowering himself to John's heigh.

-Because you put your heart to it?- he replaid, somwehat insecure.

Bobby smiled- Yes, and no. I am the best because I know that every peace of wood that comes into my hands has a soul, as well as all living beings. I work with that soul, I bring it out, I give it what is missing. The wood reaches Its full potential when its soul is completed with my work, my own peace of soul that from that moment on will live inside it, and make it perfect.

John only stared, not fully understanding.

Bobby continued: -Every human has a soul mate. Sometimes we find it right away, sometimes it takes us years to find them. Others- less lucky than us- never trully find them. When you do spot them, something shifts within you; it's mysterious and ineffable, but it happens and it manifests itself one way or another.

Today, my lucky John, you have found yours. And you have acted accordingly by showing him how you'll be able to make him happy, to give him- not what everybody believes he should have-, but just the right thing, just what he needs.

That's why i gave him the sword. Remember who it was your idea to make it? how you helped me make it? That all had a purpose, and it walked through that door today. Now that boy has something to remember you, and he will come back, because as I know you felt him, he felt you too.-

Now, seven years old is a very young age to process the full meaning of a soulmate, and John couldn't quite grasp the inmensity of it- Was it like being married? Should he get Sherlock a ring?

As he pondered about all those things, he decided that it didn't matter. He felt good and Sherlock had a sword and had almost smiled at him.

He would chase the bullies away, he would play pirates with him, and given the fact that they were destined for each other, maybe- some day- he would get him an engagement hat to go with the sword.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Johnlock fic, so i apologice for every OOC-ness that may have ensued. Also, english is not my mother tongue and i have no beta, so i also apologice for any grammar mistakes.  
> Finally, i hope you didn't find it dreadfully boring, it just something that came up and i kind of had to write it.


End file.
